


Just a kid

by Poasoianna



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Character Death, Gen, Mentors, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker is a young teen, Protective Avengers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 13:23:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7803607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poasoianna/pseuds/Poasoianna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A horrible crime is committed, and Peter is devastated. But the Avengers have his back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a kid

He’s out patrolling when he hears the scream- high pitched, terrified. It stops and then resumes tenfold, and an uneasy feeling settles in the pit of his stomach, because there is something nauseatingly familiar about this scream.

He changes course abruptly, following the noise. His stomach is twisting, and his spidey sense is tingling- and that’s never a good sign. The normal criminals he deals with on a daily basis don’t set it off nearly as much as this.

When he rounds the corner of a small alleyway he nearly chokes in astonishment. A women is bent double, in a heap on the floor, a growing pool of blood around her. She’s stopped screaming now and is just coughing, red falling from her tinted lips. Her eyes are closed, and she seems to be slowly slipping into unconsciousness.

That isn’t what shocks Peter, he’s seen more than his fair share of stabbings, of brutality- it's a hazard of the job, and sometimes people slip through your fingers. He’s young, sure, and maybe he’s lost his innocence because of it, but it comes with the territory of having spider superpowers.

No, that’s not what shocks him. But he’s faced with his dying Aunt, and he’s panicking.

“Aunt May?” Peter chokes out, terror leaking into his voice. “Shit, Oh God,” He runs towards her and props her up against him. He can’t help here. He need’s a doctor. “Oh shit.”

He fumbles with the hidden pocket he always sews into his suit, pulling out his phone. “Please have signal.” He mutters, “Please, please have signal.”

He’s greeted with a blank screen and shit, he forgot to charge it again.

He rifles through Aunt May’s bag, and comes up empty, and of course, she never brought her phone with her. Didn’t really even know how to use it properly, despite the many times Peter had tried to teach her.

The hospital's miles away- and honestly, Peter’s really not sure she’ll make it that far. He can’t do much for her but web her wound to try to stop the blood flow. He gathers her in his arms.

He can’t lose her. He can’t lose her too.

He makes a split second decision, and ends up on the Avengers’ doorstep. The secretary is terrified by the sight of the blood, and she ends up calling security, until Peter shouts that he really needs a doctor. He’s still wearing his Spider-Man suit, he realises, which is probably the only reason the Avengers are summoned at all.

They’d told him they had his back. They said they’d help him out if he needed it, and Peter really fucking needs it right now. He’s practically sobbing when Stark appears, armour free beside him, and asks him gently if he knows this women.

He nods, and Stark tells the women at the desk to cancel the ambulance, and they take the elevator (sentient elevator) up double time, and all the while he’s shaking, and really trying to stop himself because he’s probably hurting Aunt May more. 

Stark takes her from him, cradling her gently in his arms and Peter realises he’s come to the same conclusion. She looks so fragile, and so pale, and Peter tries not to think about the reasons behind that.  
“Sir.” The sentient (British) elevator speaks. “Dr Banner is waiting in the medical room, he called Dr Mason and she brought in a surgeon.”

“Dr Blanche?” Stark asks.

The names mean nothing to Peter. He’s forced to wait in the corridor, while a swarm of people in white lab coats descend upon the lifeless body of his Aunt. He stares through the glass window at the procedure, and sees the rush, and hears the voices barking orders at each other.

It’s really serious.

Stark’s hand is resting heavily on his shoulder- a weight that grounds him, and he relaxes slightly, though trembling hasn’t yet ceased. “Spider-Man.” The older man speaks, his voice low and gentle- the same tone Peter uses for frightened civilians. “You can take off your mask.” He continues. “Your identity is safe here.”

Peter’s breathing hitches, “I can’t.” He chokes out, and he know he sounds scared- like a terrified child, but he can’t bring himself to really care.

Stark puts a hand under his chin, and forces him to look up. “Listen.” He says. “That women’s special to you. I reckon you’re some sort of relative, maybe a family friend.”

Peter is vaguely aware he’s hyperventilating.

Stark’s voice is still soothing as he continues. “I can use facial recognition. JARVIS probably already knows her name. And at some point I’ll find out who you are too.”

“The more people who know who I am, the more who get hurt.” Peter whispers. “You’ll end up dead. They’ll hurt you to get to me.”

Stark looks world weary and tired at that statement. “I’d like to see them try.” He looks at Peter appraisingly. “And you’re going to tell me why you think that once you’ve taken off your mask.”

Peter’s hands have gone numb, and he struggles to grip the soft fabric. He clumsily swips a few times, before gasping out a choked sob. 

Stark makes a motion- as if to ask permission, before gripping the spandex between his fingers, and when Peter nods, the man pulls it fluidly away.

Peter takes in another shuddering breath, and then another, and he can feel his heart speed up in his chest, way beyond the point of healthy.

Stark’s looking at him, dumbfounded. “Shit.” Is what he says after a long moment. “You’re just a kid.”

That’s when the tears really start to fall. His entire body shakes, and he feels like he’s suffocating. His vision is starting to blur, and he chokes, because his heart feels like it’s trying to run a marathon without him. His legs give way, and he crashes to the ground, anxious, choked sobs tearing through him. He can’t breathe- oh shit, he actually can’t breathe.

Stark’s suddenly crouched in front of him, his hands on his shoulders

“Hey.” The older man’s frowning, a worried crease between his brows. “Calm down kid. Breathe, c’mon- yeah that’s it. Slowly-”

Peter takes in slow, jagged breaths, and his fluttering heart beat becomes kind of regular again, and he shivers because he’s broken out in some sort of a sweat.

Suddenly he’s being maneuvered away, and into another room, and pushed onto what is perhaps the most comfortable couch he’s ever sat on. A warm drink is pressed into his hand, and Peter feels himself slowly warm up as he sips at it- it’s coffee, perhaps a tad too bitter for him, but he wasn’t complaining.

Stark snags a blanket that’s draped over the other side of couch, making quick work of wrapping it around the teenagers shoulders.

Peter feels a little like a cocoon, but he burrows further in anyway- he’s still shaking. “What was that?” He mutters. His chest hurts now, and he’s struggling to take in a regular supply of air.

“A panic attack.” Stark has sat down next to him now. “You ever had one before?”

Peter bites his lip. “I didn’t know that’s what those were.” He mumbles into the blanket. He’s keeping this blanket. It’s really nice.

“You ever seen someone about it?” The older man asks, flippantly- but there’s a little concern in his tone now, and Peter shakes his head.

Stark hesitates. “Maybe you should, kid. If this has happened before-”

Peter shivers, “I can deal with it.” He can’t talk to anyone, not if he wants his identity safe. “It’s not too bad.”

Stark looks sceptical, but drops it. Maybe because the circumstances aren’t the best right now. Peter’s sure he’d be more insistent if his Aunt wasn’t lying on a hospital bed.

Aunt May was-

“Aunt May!” He exclaims suddenly, and bolts into the corridor, the blanket lying discarded on the floor. How could he forget about her? The urgency and terror of the situation hits him again, and his chest heaves. He reaches the door of the medical room, before he’s being tugged away yet again.

“Let me go!” He’s crying again, trapped in Stark’s hold. He could get free- he’s got super strength, but he finds himself as intensely aware of the older man’s fragility as he is of Aunt May’s. He doesn’t want to hurt him.

“Calm down, kid.” Stark mutters. “You can’t go in there yet, kiddo. We don’t know if-” He’s rubbing Peter’s back soothingly, but cuts himself off, as if he’s said too much.

Peter looks him in the eye, and has to look up to do it. He’d always thought Tony Stark was short- but maybe that was because on TV he’d always been standing next to the Captain. “I know she might not make it.” He says, and his voice shakes. “I brought her here. I saw the blood. I-” He hesitates. “Is she still-”

Stark lets go of him. His eyes are sad, and Peter wonders why anyone could accuse him of being selfish. “I’ll ask Bruce what’s going on.”

“Thanks, Mr Stark.” He says suddenly, compulsively. “Thanks for helping her.”

“I’d be a terrible human being if I didn’t.” Stark’s tone is wry, but his eyes hold a sort of gentleness that softens the words. “Call me Tony, kid. Mr Stark reminds me of my dad.”

Peter hesitates, but decides in for a penny, in for a pound. “I’m Peter.” He says, quietly. “Peter Parker.” He nods towards the medical room. “She’s my Aunt.” He looks up at Sta- Tony pleadingly, “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

His Aunt is in so much danger just from being around him. She’s the only one left. His enemies would jump at the chance to take her, to harm her. Just to see the look on Peter’s face. He frowns because he’s vaguely aware that his breathing has picked up again, and Tony’s now closer again, his expression a mixture of worry and awe.

“I won’t.” Tony says. He clearly didn’t expect Peter to so readily part with the information- but Peter trusts Tony. He isn’t sure why- trusting people had never gone too well in the past-

But then again, he didn’t really have anything to lose. Not anymore.

Tony leaves him, and Peter heaves a shaking breath. He can hear muffled speaking, but the conversation goes on longer than he thought it should. His heart beats faster by the second. Nothing good will come of this. He can tell. He knows. He fights back sobs that threaten to rip their way out of his chest.

When Tony reemerges he has a doctor by his side. Their faces are grim, and Peter stands frozen, unable to move.

He closes his eyes and breathes for a second, and then looks up. He saw the blood, he knows how dire his Aunt’s condition is.

His eyes open, and they flicker between the two men. In a voice that holds far more strength than he feels, he whispers, 

“Tell me.”


End file.
